


Hello my old heart

by idkimtired



Series: soft songs for soft people [3]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Hopeful I guess, M/M, Song Based
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:33:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25285423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idkimtired/pseuds/idkimtired
Summary: Based off Hello My Old Heart by the Oh hellos*shrugs*
Relationships: Jeremy Knox/Jean Moreau
Series: soft songs for soft people [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1817239
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	Hello my old heart

_Hello, my old heart_

Jean grips the edge of the sink a little too tight with trembling hands as he stares at his face, pale and unrecognisable. The last time he had a mirror was in France. Back then, the face that looked back at him had freckles splattering over his nose, cheeks still round and soft and a mouth that looked like it knew how to smile. Back then nothing marred his skin, no scars, no black lines of ink.

_How have you been?_

Nothing of that boy remains in his face, thin and cold, the only colour the blue sinking under his eyes. But he thinks he can remember him, the boy from before, the one who used to make a funny face in the mirror and ruffle his own hair to try to look cool.

_Are you still there inside my chest?_

At least, his dreams remember him, delicate and slim, proud and careless. His dreams remember his old life and self, filling his sleep with images of a gang of laughing boys and french streets.

_I've been so worried, you've been so still_

But that boy - the one who knew how to smile and laugh and live - he doesn't feel like Jean anymore. Sometimes, like now, Jean goes digging deep inside to try to find him again. But even he learnt long ago to be quiet.

_Barely beating at all_

The man reflected back at him doesn't feel like Jean either. No, he looks like a stranger. And not one that Jean would like to meet, strict lines and a cruel mouth with tired empty eyes. He looks like a ghost. Maybe he is. Maybe he’s just a ghost of the boy.

  
  


_Oh, oh, don't leave me here alone_

Riko screams and screams and screams and Jean doesn't know where Kevin is but the hollow emptiness opening and dragging him down tells him he’s gone. Riko is screaming and Kevin is gone and Jean, Jean stands in an empty court surrounded by the ghostly remains of a celebration. All alone.

_Don't tell me that we've grown_

He finds Kevin again, an entire year later, lying broken and bloodied on a bed he doesn't know, too tired to even summon the anger that’s been building in his stomach for months, burning through any part of the small smiling boy that was left.

_For having loved a little while_

Now he can't recognise either of them.

_Oh, oh, I don't wanna be alone_

He can see Kevin’s mouth moving, so he knows he’s talking but he can't hear a word. He’s too busy trying to put the man in front of him with the boy he used to know, the one who was just as scared of Riko and the dark. The one who learnt French so they could talk together, so Jean could have a little bit of home even in the Nest. But he can't find him.

_I wanna find a home_

Kevin has a home now, a family, and it shows in his face. A warmth that didn't used to be there, a softness in his voice when he talks about Jonsten and Minyard, a peacefulness that dances in his eyes. He feels distant and unreal, no place for Jean in his new life.

_And I wanna share it with you_

Jean tells him he doesn't want to play on the same team, letting his month run away with whatever reasonable excuse it can form, and ignores the relief shining in Kevin’s eyes.

  
  


_Hello, my old heart_

It's warm in California, a cloudless sky stretching above him and a small breeze playing with his hair.

_It's been so long_

He sinks into the leather passenger seat, the convertible’s roof way back, music blasting as Jeremy Knox drives full speed along the coast, breathing in the salt air and the cold rush of wind in his face.

_Since I've given you away_

His new captain sings along to an old song, a smile curling the edge of his mouth, a dimple in his cheek.

_And every day, I add another stone_

Jean looks away.

_To the walls I built around you_

He tilts his head back until all he can see is the endless blue and does his best to think of nothing at all. Not Riko or the Ravens, not home in France and the boy he left behind there who knew how to smile, not Kevin Day and his Foxes and not Jeremy Knox and the life he drives him towards.

_To keep you safe_

He breathes past it all and retreats deep deep inside where nothing and no one can reach him.   
  


_Oh, oh, don't leave me here alone_

Jean cries, soft sobs that shake his shoulders and tremble his hands as he tries to hold it all back, keep it locked up deep inside. He can taste the salt of his tears as they track down his cheeks, his body’s desperate attempts at releasing all the memories hoarded in his head. Jeremy Knox watches him with wide, helpless eyes and Jean wants nothing more than to scream at him to leave, even as a part of his mind begs him to stay.

_Don't tell me that we've grown_

The dark makes him feel like a little kid, lost and hopeless, strangling his senses and creating monsters in the corners of the room and under the bed. He’s too old for that now, he knows, but he wishes he could call his mom and have her turn on the light and rock him gently back to sleep with old French nursery rhymes.

_For having loved a little while_

He hasn't had a mom in a while now. Not since she decided she didn't want him. Not since Riko shoved an exy racket in his hands and pushed him into a building painted all in black with no windows and too many monsters.

_Oh, oh, I don't wanna be alone_

Jean curls up, bundling his feet in close and hugging his arms tightly around himself as he gasps for breath and tries to hold himself together.

_I wanna find a home_

“Hey,” Knox nudges his foot and Jean looks up to see the other boy still there, head leaning towards Jean with worried, determined eyes, golden curls illuminated by the lamp he turned on, “Hey, you're ok, ok? Just breath, yeah? Breath with me - in… and out, in… and out. Perfect, again, in… and out.”

_And I wanna share it with you_

Jean doesn't take his eyes off Knox as he does what he says, his breathing slowly evening out, not even when it's over and the other man falls asleep right there on the floor beside him. He wishes he could still sleep like that.

_Hello, my old heart_

Jean breathes in the salty air, cold and crisp, tilting his head back into the wind screaming into his face with a small smile, letting it tangle and untangle his hair, growing a little long now. A memory rises unbidden of the small boy he used to be, racing a kite along an empty beach, the air cold enough to freeze his lungs and turn his lips blue and cheeks bright pink.

_How have you been?_

That boy would have loved this beach and it's relentless waves, even grey as it is now, the clouds and cold stealing the colour away for a summer day. That boy would have begged for an ice cream and shrugged when laughed at and told it was cold enough, would have said, “what about a hot chocolate then?”

_How is it being locked away?_

This Jean bundles deep into his knitted jumper, oversized and warm, and looks into the ocean, forcefully pushing away what it feels like to drown.

_Don't you worry, in there, you're safe_

This Jean keeps a careful distance between him and the rolling water and stares down a grinning Jeremy Knox with a cheap plastic water gun, keeping his eyes angry and warning rather than panicked. 

_And it's true, you'll never beat_

This Jean watches his team race each other through the waves, screaming at the freezing shock of the water, laughing when they get caught, the punishment a harmless spray of cold water but hangs back, shaking his head at his captain who has stopped, barefoot and glowing with the cold, soft-looking locks dancing in the wind, to frown at him in question. Jeremy Knox bites his lip, looking impossibly sad, before he nods an ok.

_But you'll never break._

The little boy inside, a whispering voice growing louder now, begs him to stay. But he’s only a child, self destructive in his hopeful curiosity, so Jean tells him that he doesn't understand and walks away from the dangerous but tempting water and dangerously tempting people in it. He’s learnt since he was that little boy and he doesn't need the same lesson twice.

  
  


_Nothing lasts forever_

They play the Ravens, the remains of his old team and he doesn’t think he’s going to be ok. But Jeremy squeezes his hand, blushing slightly, before they go in and Laila yells and shoves when one of his old teammates fouls him, defensive and angry for Jeans sake. Surprised as he watches his new team, he realizes he’s grown since he last saw his old one, grown back into the boy he can sometimes glimpse grinning at him through the mirror and now when he sees the black jerseys and cruel faces it feels like a distant past, unimportant compared to what he has now. 

_Some things aren't meant to be_

They play the Foxes and he sees Kevin and it's ok. It's ok because he barely even notices, laughing instead when Jeremy and Alvarez crush him, jumping up and down with excitement, screaming their victory to the sky. It's ok, he realises, and he's ok, he's going to be ok. So he grins as he shakes Kevins hand and lets himself be dragged away, arm looped around his shoulders, by an eager Jeremy, laughing, laughing, laughing, his stomach stumbling when he catches the other man staring.

_But you’ll never find the answers_

His stomach’s been doing a lot of that - tripping over itself whenever he meets Jeremy’s eyes. And Jeremy’s been doing a lot of that too - staring. But he always looks away, flushing pink, when Jean catches him. He doesn’t know what to do about it, instincts screaming to push Jeremy away until he stops. 

_Until you set your old heart free_

He doesn’t want to push Jeremy away.

_Until you set your old heart free_

The boy, the fighting voice at the back of his head, pushing its way forward, screams not to, screams to take this. Take all of this good, all this happiness, all these stares, all this hope, breathe it in and maybe try give it back out again too.

_Hello, my old heart_

He thinks... he thinks he might try listening to that voice.

_Hello, my old heart_

Next time he’s in Jeremy’s car, the other man testing the speed limit as they fly along the near empty road, the sea stretching out to their right, he reaches out and turns Jeremy’s music off to the other mans offended protests and puts on some of his own. This time, sitting twisted in his seat so he can see both Jeremy beside him and Alvarez behind, he shouts along to the lyrics, raising the volume when Jeremy groans and laughing when Alvarez joins him in butchering the tune. 

_Hello, my old heart_

Next time he wakes up in the dark, panic clawing at his throat, he remembers to breath before Jeremy stumbles over, still half asleep, to help. This time the sight of him alone settles something in Jean, calming, a reminder that if Jeremy’s there he’s ok. He doesn’t think of his mother or monsters in the dark now, instead he buries his head into Jeremy’s shoulder and falls asleep. 

_Hello, my old heart_

Next time they go to the beach Jean drags a kite along with him. Big, red and bulky, it flies with an unexpected elegance, soaring above them as he leans back against the wind, clutching the string close, to the delighted cheers of his team. This time, when the rest of them go diving into the salted waves, Jeremy stays. Stays beside him, head tilted back and mouth open in a grin until Jean offers him the string. 

_Hello, my old heart_

Next time he meets Jeremy’s eyes, he smiles. Feels it deepening when, this time, the other man’s eyes widen instead of looking away, cheeks going bright pink, looking caught in the stage light, shocked and panicked, until his own smile starts, tentative at first but brightening shyly when Jean doesn’t look away. 

_Hello, my old heart_

He’s beginning to look forward to all of his next times. 


End file.
